


but tonight i'll need you to stay

by InkCaviness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, very light angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:54:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4553223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkCaviness/pseuds/InkCaviness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you.”<br/>Kyoutani's voice, barely above a whisper before, is louder now, audible over the rain pattering on the windows, but it’s still shaky and almost breaks on the last word. </p><p> -</p><p>  <em>“You know,” he says, eyes fixed on Kyoutani’s hands because he doesn’t think he could say this any other way, “I love you, too.”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	but tonight i'll need you to stay

**Author's Note:**

> i finally tried myself on some kyouhaba!!
> 
> title from run and go by twenty one pilots
> 
> EDIT: now with super super awesome [art](http://baccadraw.tumblr.com/post/127278658476/you-know-he-says-eyes-fixed-on-kyoutanis) by [baccadraw](http://baccadraw.tumblr.com)
> 
> sequel can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4806599)

Yahaba feels like someone knocked the air out of his lungs. He’s gripping the frame of the front door tightly, the sharp edges of the wood digging painfully into his fingers but it’s the only thing keeping him upright at that moment, his head spinning and blown empty of any coherent thought.

 

“What?”, he wheezes out, less of a genuine question and more out of the urge to just say _something_ to fill the agonizing silence hanging heavily in the air between them.

 

Kyoutani doesn’t meet his eye, doesn’t even look up, gaze sternly fixed on his shoes and the little puddle of water that’s beginning to form around his feet. He’s got his arms crossed in front of his chest and his shoulders drawn up high, every muscle of his body tense in a way that Yahaba has never seen him before. He’s tense during games, of course, but on the court it’s from adrenaline and a certain aggression. This is different, this is a nervous kind of tenseness, one that reminds Yahaba of the way he feels when he gets back a test and he’s uncertain about the result. A nervousness that stems from not being in control of a situation, not being able to predict its outcome, and not being able to influence it, at least not in that moment.

It’s freezing outside, Yahaba thinks for a second, and he’s not dressed for this weather. Kyoutani really isn’t, he’s only wearing a tanktop and a ratty pair of sweats that sit too low on his hips and pools up around his ankles.

 

“I love you.”

 

His voice, barely above a whisper before, is louder now, audible over the rain pattering on the windows, but it’s still shaky and almost breaks on the last word. He still holds his head bowed, eyes closed, and draws back a little, not much, but enough for Yahaba to notice. Kyoutani never draws back or tries to make himself seem smaller than he is. There seems to be something stuck in Yahaba’s throat, preventing him from getting out a single word, but Kyoutani looks likes he’s going to bolt at any moment now. Yahaba slowly takes his hand off the doorframe and moves to the side, pulling open the door a bit more.

 

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch your death out there.”

 

Yahaba honestly doesn’t know how he managed to get out the whole sentence without stuttering but he’s glad he did when Kyoutani’s head snaps up, his eyes wide in surprise. Stepping back a little more to give Kyoutani his space Yahaba gestures for the other boy to come inside. There’s a second where they just look at each other, Kyoutani’s face open, a mixture of surprise and relief in his eyes. Then the moment is over and Kyoutani steps in through the door, still hesitant but his shoulders relaxing a bit. It’s a strange view, Yahaba thinks, to see this boy made of glass shards and bruised knuckles stand shivering and drenched to the bones in his home, slowly dripping water onto his mother’s pastel pink carpet.

 

The air inside is warmer and Yahaba quickly closes the door to shut out the autumn cold that’s already making goosebumps spread on his forearms. Kyoutani stands in the middle of the entry way, still hugging his arms to his body, looking around with thinly veiled curiosity. As he gets less tense he starts to shiver harder, his hands rubbing over his arms to warm the clammy skin.

 

Yahaba clears his throat and walks past Kyoutani, further down the hallway. He can feel Kyoutani’s stare burning right between his shoulder blades, but he doesn’t stop or turn around.

 

“Wait here, I’ll be back.”

 

He doesn’t check to see if Kyoutani really stays behind, instead quickly slips into his room, the light on the nightstand still turned on, and grabs the first sweatshirt he finds, a navy blue one hanging over the back of his chair. When he comes back out into the hallway he finds Kyoutani standing turned to the wall, looking at a picture of Yahaba’s family. It’s a nice picture, even Yahaba has to admit that, even though it’s just play pretend, his parents in their best clothes proudly standing next to him and his sister. The photo was taken a year ago around Halloween and Yahaba hasn’t seen his sister since Easter, hasn’t seen her smile like in the photo since last Christmas.

 

He shakes off the thought and takes a deep breath to clear his mind. Kyoutani doesn’t hear him coming, the sound of his footsteps barely audible on the carpet. Trying not to startle Kyoutani he stands next to him, quietly reaching out and nudging his arm with the sweatshirt in his hands.

 

“Here, you should change into something dry.”

 

His voice is low even though there’s no one else in the house but somehow the situation calls for soft words. Kyoutani’s lips form a perfect circle as he stares at Yahaba in surprise, then glances down to the sweatshirt, and finally looks up again. His face is open, for once his eyebrows aren’t drawn together, his lips not tugged down in a frown. It makes him seem younger, pronounces the soft curve of his lips, and makes his eyes stand out in a way that still looks intense but not angry, just searching and curious. _Cute_ , Yahaba thinks then goes to scold himself before remembering that he’s probably allowed to think that kind of thing now.

 

“Oh”, Kyoutani says as he takes the sweatshirt and unfolds it, “Thanks.”

 

He looks down at the shirt in his hands, then reaches up to tug his own tanktop over his head. Yahaba looks away but not before noticing that the tips of Kyoutani’s ears have gone pink. He’s probably in no position to judge though, the back of his neck is burning and he fiddles with his hands. Of course he’s seen Kyoutani shirtless before, you can’t avoid that if you’re on the same volleyball team, but it definitely feels different when they’re alone in Yahaba’s house after Kyoutani just confessed his feelings for him. The thought only makes his skin burn harder and he hopes that Kyoutani can’t see his blush in the darkness.

 

The sweatshirt was a little too big for Yahaba so the sleeves hang down over Kyoutani’s hands. When he moves to roll them up a little Yahaba catches one of his hands and turns it over. There are scratches across the palm and dirt underneath his fingernails. For a second Kyoutani tries to pull his hand away but then he stills and lets Yahaba examine his hands. Slowly his fingertips ghost over the spiderweb of scratches, careful not to press too hard. None of them are particularly deep and they’ve already stopped bleeding, but Yahaba still softly guides Kyoutani to the kitchen and motions for him to sit down at the kitchen table.

 

“Stay here for a second”, he says and waits for Kyoutani to nod before he leaves the kitchen.

 

The bathroom is just down the hallway, right next to his parents’ bedroom and he’s glad that they aren’t home so he doesn’t have to sneak. Armed with bandages and disinfectant he returns to the kitchen to find Kyoutani still sitting in the same spot, his hands in his lap, jiggling one leg and curiously looking around the kitchen.

 

Yahaba sets down his makeshift first aid kit on the table, then walks over to wet a paper towel at the kitchen sink.

 

“What happened?” he asks over his shoulder.

 

“I fell”, Kyoutani grunts in reply.

 

He doesn’t offer more of an explanation and Yahaba hums softly in acknowledgement as he pulls over a chair to sit down across from Kyoutani.

 

“How did you fall?”

 

Carefully he takes Kyoutani’s hands in his own and washes off the dirt and dried blood from his palms. Kyoutani’s fingers are shorter than his own, his hands broader, but they’re both calloused from long days of training. One of Kyoutani’s fingers is crooked, the index finger on his right hand, but it seems like it’s been like that for a while now, probably still from middle school. Yahaba half expects Kyoutani not to answer his question after silent for so long and so he almost misses the reply.

 

“I was running and I slipped. In a puddle.”

 

Caught off guard Yahaba looks up and finds Kyoutani pointedly looking to the right.

 

“You ran here?”

 

Kyoutani doesn’t answer, just shrugs and scoots away a little.

 

“Why?”

 

A shrug, again. Kyoutani is closing in on himself again, that open expression vanishing from his face again, lips pressed together tightly. Yahaba gently reaches up with one hand and pressed his fingertips against Kyoutani’s cheek. Not enough to force him into turning his head, just enough to signal that Yahaba wants him to look over. Kyoutani complies, looks straightforward directly at Yahaba, his eyes questioning.

 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me why.”

 

He watches as Kyoutani relaxes instantly, his eyes going soft again.

 

“Thanks,” Kyoutani hesitates as if he wants to say more, “I’ll...I’ll tell you some other time, okay?”

 

Yahaba can’t stop himself from smiling. He doesn’t hear Kyoutani thank someone too often, and he certainly never hears him promise something like that.

 

“Okay. I’ll put some disinfectant on your hands now; it’s gonna sting a little.”

 

Kyoutani nods, still staring at him, and Yahaba starts dabbing disinfectant onto his skin. He barely flinches and it only takes Yahaba a few seconds to finish up. There are words burning on his tongue, but he holds them in for now, instead carefully starts wrapping bandages around Kyoutani’s hands. Taking a deep breath he steels himself for what he’s about to say, but holds his hands still and his head bowed. Over the years he’s learned not to let the nervousness seep into his voice, to stop his hands from shaking even when his stomach is turning.

 

“You know,” he says, eyes fixed on Kyoutani’s hands because he doesn’t think he could say this any other way, “I love you, too.”

 

Kyoutani doesn’t answer, doesn’t seem to react in any way, but his breath that had been ghosting over the back of Yahaba’s neck suddenly stops. Finally Yahaba looks up to see Kyoutani look at him with wide eyes, his mouth opened slightly.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Kyoutani breathes out suddenly, then clamps his mouth shut and leans back a little, a bright blush spreading over his cheeks.

 

Yahaba is startled for a second, then grins when he gets himself back under control, moving forward until their faces are a mere few centimetres apart. He can see Kyoutani’s eyes dart down to his lips and then back up, can count each of his dark eyelashes curling over deep-set eyes.

 

“Sure”, he breathes out before pressing their lips together.

 

Kyoutani is frozen at first, unmoving, but then he slowly starts to kiss back and his lips are even softer than Yahaba imagined them as they move against his own. One of his hands reaches up to cup the back of Kyoutani’s neck to pull him and he smiles into the kiss, his eyes closed. They pull apart soon and Yahaba isn’t quite sure who pulled away first but they stay sitting like that with their foreheads pressed together. Yahaba could look at Kyoutani for hours, at his lips pink from kissing and his eyes filled with happiness for once, but eventually he leans away again, pulls back his ands and lets them drop to his knees.

 

“I should probably go home”, Kyoutani says, his eyes averted, voice filled with uncertainty.

 

Yahaba quickly glances to the kitchen window, the raindrops still beating against the glass. Across the street the branches of an old tree are pulled up and down by the storming wind.

 

“Are you sure?” Yahaba asks with a nod towards the window.

 

Kyoutani jerks his head in something that could be a shake or a nod, Yahaba isn’t quite sure, and moves to stand up, but Yahaba catches his wrist, lightly wrapping his fingers around it.

 

“You could stay here if you wanted to? My parents won’t be back until later tomorrow.”

 

That stops him from getting up; Kyoutani stays frozen mid-movement, owlishly blinking at Yahaba who thinks that his face must resemble a tomato by now.

 

“Okay,” Kyoutani says, simply, and sits back down.

 

“Really?” Yahaba asks, a little dumbfounded.

 

Kyoutani just shrugs in reply and leans his head to the side.

 

“Well, if you’re okay with it. My parents don’t really care anyway”, Kyoutani looks nonchalant but his shoulders seem tense again and there’s something questioning in the way that he’s raising his eyebrows, as if to ask if staying the night is really okay.

 

“Sure,” Yahaba assures him, “I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t okay with it.”

 

-

 

He doesn’t have a guest futon, and if his parents do have one then he certainly doesn’t know where it is. This is better than any guest futon could be anyway, even though his bed is a little too small, they make it work. Yahaba has his back to the wall and Kyoutani lies curled up with his back pressed against Yahaba’s chest who wraps one arm around him. This is far better than freezing his toes off all alone, Yahaba thinks and buries his face in the crook of Kyoutani’s neck. His friend – probably boyfriend now, Yahaba thinks with a giddy grin – dozed off almost immediately, his chest rising and falling steadily now.

 

Yahaba falls asleep with a smile on his face, but not before softly whispering something in Kyoutani’s ear.

 

“I really do love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> i might write a sequel to this if anyone would be interested in it!
> 
> come yell at me about kyouhaba on [tumblr](inkcaviness.tumblr.com)(seriously, pls do it, im a lonely meme)
> 
> sequel can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4806599)


End file.
